Short stories often make great theatre pieces, from Chekhov’s work to the lesser-known but brilliant adaptations by the wonderful American poet Robert Lowell. So when I heard that Soulpepper’s Diego Matamoros, one of Canada’s finest and most beloved performers, had joined with one of this country’s most impressive directors, Daniel Brooks, to collaborate on bringing Jorge Luis Borges’ mystical, haunting story, The Aleph, to the stage, I was ecstatic.
The result is not heaven (although heavenly, eternal and kabbalistic motifs flow intermittently through the hour-plus one-act), but it does make for a very entertaining, often funny and occasionally poetic experience.
I am generally not a fan of one-man/woman shows, because I have always felt that theatre demands dialogue. But having re-read the great Borges’ brief, nine-page story in a quality translation, I found this a very satisfying, if brief, evening of live theatre. South American-born Matamoros, who came to Canada as a child when his parents’ marriage broke up, is a great comic talent — he truly stole the show at Soulpepper’s recent production of Neil Simon’s The Odd Couple (he is soon returning in it; don’t miss it this time) — and he is as adept in poetic, religious incantation as he is in comedy.
The Aleph is not an easy story to comprehend, with a strange plot involving the love for a beautiful young woman who died young, and her vain, untalented cousin who somehow possesses this peculiar, God-infused Aleph, the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, which appears to have divine powers. Indeed, the highlight of the show — presented on a bare stage with a single swivel chair — is when the superb actor rattles off the epiphany he achieves from viewing the Aleph, using Borge’s exquisite poetry almost word-for-word: “The Aleph’s diameter was probably little more than an inch, but all space was there, actual and undiminished. Each thing was infinite things, since I distinctly saw it from every angle of the universe. I saw the teeming sea; I saw daybreak and nightfall; I saw the multitudes of America … I saw all the mirrors on Earth and none of them reflected me.” (This latter line gives the audience shivers, as only minutes before, the fine performer has pulled back black curtains covering a stage-length mirror which reflects the entire, sold-out crowd watching the show.)
And some lines are utterly unforgettable: “I saw a woman whom I shall never forget; I saw her tangled hair, her tall figure, I saw the cancer in her breast … I saw the coupling of love and the modification of death … the unimaginable universe.”
This is not an easy evening of theatre any more than Borges was an easy writer to grasp: the Argentinian’s magical realism and obsession with spiritual and religious themes will be familiar to few. But if you admire Matamoros as I do, and his thoughtful collaborator, the director Brooks, as well as the genius of set-designer Michael Levine, you may be shaken by this mystical hour — enriched by the often autobiographical nature of this wonderful actor’s additions to the Borges story.
Soulpepper conquers our hearts and minds once more. And the show has recently been extended to June 24, so there is more than enough time to read this excellent translation of Borges’ story, which I strongly suggest. Lots of witty lines about a fictional production of Hamlet help make this a very special show.
The Aleph, Soulpepper, May 13 – June 24
Allan Gould is Post City’s theatre critic
